


Smut

by Pyronica



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Grinding, My First Fanfic, Shameless Smut, Smut, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyronica/pseuds/Pyronica
Summary: A work in progress but, basically Michael gets frisky.





	Smut

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS
> 
> so don't expect it to have an ending, I'd like feedback and/or requests

"Michael..." you muttered out, fear evident in your words. The shape stood silently, mask peering down at you. You sucked in a ragged breath as the adrenaline in your veins pleaded with you to run, to do something! But, all you could do was shiver, you wished that you had heeded the warnings of the kids in the neighbourhood. 'It's the Boogieman House!' 'You'll die there!' were all the words you brushed off, swept under the rug as you unpacked your car. If only you had believed them. 

It had only been a few weeks since you had started living in The Old Myers Residence, the weeks had been silent and uneventful, further contributing to your disbelief in the rumours that stated that the supposed 'Boogie Man' resided in your home. But, now you knew those rumours to be true, as you stared up at the emotionless eyes of your future killer. 

He stared back down at you, the white mask concealing his features as he towered over your short frame. He seemed to be at least 6'8, an extreme height difference from your small stature. It was evident that you were not getting out of this alive. So, you resorted to the only thing you could muster, begging. "Please..." You managed to squeak out between shaky breaths. The man cocked his head to the side, seeming to consider your pleas of mercy. Of course, he wasn't going to spare you just like that; That's why you weren't surprised when you felt his large hands wrap tightly around your neck.

"Michael!" You screeched, grabbing at his hands. His hold was firm, a vice grip that could crush your windpipe without mercy. You continued clawing and scratching at his hands, your attempts to free yourself all in vain. You let out a soft gasp as you felt him lift your body off the ground, looking up at The Shape, you struggled to breathe, the firm grasp around your throat enhancing. At that moment, you knew you were going to die.

The Figure held you securely against the wall, his knife ready to pierce through your chest. You screamed, your adrenaline finally overtook your body, forcing you into a state of flight or fight. You started kicking and flailing your arms; Trying to, at least break free from the man's still grip. Your vision started blurring from the lack of oxygen, you tried to suck in a breath of air, but to no avail. After flailing your legs for about, a minute, you finally managed to kick him in the family jewels. 

Thankfully, Serial killers still have feelings down there. Michael groaned, loosening his grip enough for you to escape. Pulling away from him, You started limping down the hall, your body not ready to support your weight after being choked to half an inch of your life. 

It only took The man a minute to compose himself before, grabbing you by the shirt collar and pinning you against the wall yet again. "Michael, please!" You begged, staring up at the man. He cocked his head to the side, the mask hiding any emotion that he could have had at that moment. After the longest 30 seconds of your life, he finally moved, flipping you over so that your chest was up against the wall, he pushed himself closer to you, his chest pressed up against your back. 

You screamed, eyes widening in fear as the sound of your heartbeat pounded in your ears. You continued, thrashing and fighting against him, your back grinding against his ribs. You sucked in one final breath, relishing your last moments befor-- wait.

Michael's breathing seemed to have gotten louder, more pronounced. He let out a soft groan, the sound finding its way out from beneath his mask. You inhale, the coppery scent of blood filling your nose, Michael was covered in it. You chalked his harsh breathing up to being kicked in the groin. But you were taken aback by the sudden rutting against your backside.

Oh god.

Was he getting off on you? Most likely, If the faint grunts coming from the man were anything to go by. You were shocked. In all of your life, you would have never thought that something like this would happen. Letting out a soft exhale, you gripped the wall in front of you, your eyes widening in both fear and shock. Pushing against him was like pushing against a mountain, he was built like a tree.


End file.
